


Stack The Odds

by SinnamonSpider



Series: Stereo Love: Excerpts [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Damn right I took a pump-you-up song and made it wistful, Gen, Hopes and Dreams, M/M, Non-Explicit, Song Lyrics, Tumblr Prompt, Wincest Writing Challenge, Wincest if you squint, a slight angst flavour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 09:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinnamonSpider/pseuds/SinnamonSpider
Summary: “You askin’ if I ever wanted to do anything besides lie on the hood of my car and watch the stars with you?” Dean said, more serious than joking.





	Stack The Odds

**Author's Note:**

> My response to the August Wincest Writing Challenge on Tumblr. Prompt was Songs: "Eye Of The Tiger" 
> 
> I use song lyrics as inspiration for nearly all my work, so of course when I get a "songs" prompt, I can't fucking think of anything to do with the assigned song. I'm also apparently on a big totally-tempted-but-not-actually-succumbing, early rumblings of Wincest kind of kick lately. I don't know. I never know.
> 
> Title and lyrics from "Eye Of The Tiger" by Survivor.
> 
> Standard disclaimers apply. The best part of waking up is feedback in my cup.

_Don't lose your grip_  
_On the dreams of the past  
You must fight just to keep them alive_  

“Did you ever want anything else?”

Dean looked up, startled by Sam’s voice, low and gentle in the silence. “Whattya mean, Sammy?”

They were lying on the hood of the car, half-empty bottles of beer in hand, the star-strewn sky open and wide above them.

“You - did you ever dream about doing anything other than this?” Sam was still looking up and Dean could see the night sky reflected in his eyes. “I mean, I know what I wanted.” He laughed suddenly, wry and just a little self-mocking. “What I thought I wanted. What I felt like I should want.”

He lifted the bottle to his lips and drank before continuing. “You know, the whole college and career and marry the perfect girl and have the perfect life thing. I knew for years. But did you? Did you ever want anything more than,” he gestured with the bottle, liquid sloshing, “all this?”

“You askin’ if I ever wanted to do anything besides lie on the hood of my car and watch the stars with you?” Dean said, more serious than joking. Sam punched his arm anyways. “You know what I mean.”

Dean shrugged, drank. “I dunno. I tried not to let myself think about it.”

He didn’t mean to sound self-pitying, but Sam turned his head, that limpid-eyed look of sorrow and pity on his face, and Dean felt his heart wrench. “Not like that, man. I just...I knew there wasn’t much else out there for me. Didn’t make sense wasting time thinking about it.”

He fell silent and Sam looked like he wanted to say something, but his lips pressed tight against the words. They sat in the quiet for a few minutes.

“One time in school,” Dean said suddenly, “they had us do this stupid thing where we had to write what job we wanted when we grew up. I was eleven, maybe twelve; old enough to know I couldn’t put down what I’d actually wind up doing.” There was a soft, wistful look on his face that damn near broke Sam’s heart, but he just sat quietly, listening.

“So I wrote that I wanted to be a mechanic, y’know, work on cars. Have my own garage. I thought up all these details. The place was pretty sweet. Six bays, and a real nice waiting room, not those pathetic rooms they always got in garages. It was beautiful.” He stared into his beer, lost in thought. “I almost believed it could happen.”

Then his face changed and he grinned over at Sam, mask back in place. “Oh well. Killing monsters and savin’ the world ain’t bad either.”

“Some day,” Sam said, intense and purposeful, like he could carve it into stone, make it unerasable, unchangeable. “You’ll get it, Dean. _We’ll_ get it.”

And Dean just looked at him and smiled, that humouring big brother smile that meant he didn’t believe it, but he’d defend to the death Sam’s right to dream it.

Sam reached out and closed his hand over Dean’s. “Some day,” he said again, and it was almost enough to convince them both.


End file.
